


Origin Story

by dance4thedead



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Free Verse, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 10:12:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4662783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dance4thedead/pseuds/dance4thedead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Free verse poem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Origin Story

We woke in a neutral space:  
           naked, starving, thirsting.  
There were no sources of illumination and there were no shadows:  
            just gray objects without definition,   
            that was the extent of our world.  
We were neither sitting, nor standing, nor lying down;  
            we only existed.  
We were heavy and weightless at the same time.  
We were not floating.  
We were suspended by innumerable points  
            either stringing us up by threads finer than hair  
            or pinning us down by needles so slender  
            they did not cause us pain.

For us, there was no time.  
We lacked a way to mark the moments in a way to distinguish  
            one eternity from another.  
This went on for what seemed to be forever.  
Then on the horizon appeared a beacon,  
            surging toward us with unrelenting passion.  
It carved out a landscape,  
            introducing to us  
            depth, and form, and texture, and color.  
The stuff of beauty.

We welcomed the beacon for its spectacular brilliance  
            and called it **light**.  
We threw out our arms,  
            bathed in its rays.  
We found in it a warmth we  
            never before experienced.  
It pleased us to no end.  
The light neared and we were engulfed by its radiance.  
And something deep inside of ourselves knew  
            nothing would bring us greater joy  
            than to stay always in its grace.  
  
Then the light blinded us.  
We could not remain so close to the divine without consequence,  
           but we held out for as long as we could bear.  
Our veins coursed with fire.  
Our skins shriveled and we were cut to ribbons by a force  
           the strength of a feather.  
We screamed as one,  
           and from our lips fell a plea for the light to **leave us**.  
And it did.

The pain subsided,  
           as did the happiness we once felt.  
Both dissipated as memory ebbed  
           from our brains.  
And we cried.  
We cried because the light betrayed us.  
It had stirred in us a desire to be pure,  
           yet touching its goodness burned.  
And we cried because we betrayed ourselves;  
           we had allowed ourselves to be moved.

We sunk back into the earth and let the soil take hold of our bodies.  
We let our hearts be heavy  
           and our minds  
           weightless.  
We closed our eyes to the gray world and entered a deep slumber,  
           dreaming ourselves a life less hollow.  
We held onto the image of the light winking out of existence on the horizon.  
We replayed it over and over  
           and over  
           in our heads,  
           trying to imagine it changing course  
           and rushing back to us.  
We would have embraced it again in a heartbeat.


End file.
